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Tuesday, December 6, 2011

...My Bad

I woke up today the pressure of 35 pounds of Sheltie standing on my lower back making odd squeaking noises, poodles curled in the crook of my shoulder and on my head. All was right in the world.
The sun was starting to peek over the horizon, and I was getting my game plan in order: What to work on with each horse, who to work first, remember to bring the carrots for Tilly.

After all, it was only a partly cloudy day. The play of sunlight on the fresh snow was energizing. Who cares that it's ten above out side? Scott and bacon did their morning laps through the snow (until Bacon got an iceball in his toes and had to call a timeout) while Tempi rushed out, took care of business, then hurried back to my nice warm recently vacated bed. She has her priorities.

The School House at Dawn

Mocha brewed, I hopped into the truck (which had been conveniently parked in the barn, so I didn't even have to sweep the snow/ ice off of it) and slowly made my way towards the barn. The roads were covered with a thin layer of snow, so I opted to take the back route to the barn and avoid the hill near town. Why take the trickier route? I reasoned.

Why indeed.

As I turned on my new found 'easy route', I noticed that there was no snow. I could see the blacktop. Right decision I smugly thought to myself, easing up to a whopping 35 mph. That's right. I was flying.

Two more turns and then I'll be there. Already I was going over my plan of attack for this morning.
Make the first turn. No traffic makes the drive easy and fairly stress free...

I'm going maybe 15 mph (hey, I just made the turn and no one was around to judge me for how slow I was going) when I feel the rear of my poor truck slide. I tried to correct it (Turn in to the slide, don't stomp the brakes) but I slid right on to what must have been the slickest patch of road in America.
Me and my truck did the worlds slowest triple lutz ever completed on ice. We were moving slow enough that I thought that I'd come to a complete stop as soon as I ricochet off the little snow lip, an then I'd just have a good story for the rest of my day.

Obviously I underestimated the momentum of a 5000 pound vehicle on ice....

So glad dad isn't here to give me crap....

At least the front tires are still on the road!

But now the truck won't start up again, since it turned itself off in the 'crash'. Ok, ok... think! There's a fuel shutoff somewhere! That must be it. Now all I have to do is find the switch... to the owner's manual I go!
OK, found the page. With a picture. But I still cant find the switch....
Right about here, a nice older gentleman stopped and asked if I needed help. Umm, yes. He gave me the number of a towing company and told me to mention his name (you guessed it, Dan).
Perfect! I'll ask the wrecker where the switch is!

Turns out, I forgot to take the truck out of gear...
The wrecker guy (also named Dan. I wish I could be making this up!) gave me the most pitying look when he told me that the truck has to be in Park to start it. Thank goodness I didn't tell him I'm employed as an engineer...Pretty sure UMR is on their way to collect that degree from me, as I exhibited exactly zero engineering or mechanical know-how. Useless...